


Burn

by AceFromOuterSpace



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Country & Western, Drinking, Fluff, Gay, Happy Ending, Implied Relationships, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Other, Poker, Silly, playful
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-03
Updated: 2016-07-03
Packaged: 2018-07-19 18:10:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,560
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7372225
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AceFromOuterSpace/pseuds/AceFromOuterSpace
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A game of cat and mouse, constantly burning each other, they run away like fools.<br/>They hate it, They love it, It hurts but it is so satisfying.</p><p>Only fools play this game.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Burn

**Author's Note:**

> My fics are usually inspired by songs and this one is no different. 
> 
> Inspiration: Natalie by Walk The Moon
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_SdgalrKx1E
> 
> Please Enjoy!

A man dressed in old western style stands next to him with a bitter smelling drink. He swigs it. Hanzo watches the man's throat as it rolls down. A drip sits carefully placed on the edge of the weather beaten man's lips. He reaches to wipe it away but his hand is stopped by a tight grip and a burning grin. He pulls away as the man's tongue pulls the drip within his mouth. His gaze is met by the man who still smiles a slightly intimidating smiling.

"See ya found me again darlin."

His tone is taunts Hanzo's mind as his eyes observed the cowboys body. The burning sensation in Hanzo's throat grew more when the man pressed the cool glass rim against his strong, powerful lips once again. Thick saliva lined the inside of his mouth immediately sapping any moisture in the air that may have entered. 

" I don't bite, that is unless ya' want to." His words are flirtatious and serious at the same time.

The words cause Hanzo's tongue to swipe across his lips again. His mouth was dry, and he panted silently from the heat, which wasn't helping. A slight breeze blew in through the window and past the two men, making his open mouth even drier. 

"Need a drink?" The man motions towards the Hanzo's dry mouth.

No answer comes. 

"Pity." The man looks at his now empty drink and orders another. His eyes are low as he thinks of his words trying to figure out whether or not to bet on this man. He bites. Two glasses slide down the smooth bar, condensation leaving a small wet trail. McCree stared at the glasses. He stared at Hanzo from the corner of his eyes, waiting for him to take the drink. 

"If I wanted a drink, I would order it myself." 

Hanzo's voice was firm and destructive but it only brought fuel to McCree's flirtatious smile. McCree looks at Hanzo then takes the second glass, downing it all in two seconds flat. He stands and looks down on the small ridged figure that stood before him. His smile shined bright in the bar despite the lightings atrocities. Taking the hat he placed on the counter he reached inside its brim and pulled out a cheap cigar that he lit borrowing the bartenders fire. The smoke twisted in its artistic way, forming curls in the gloom, illuminated only by the age-speckled bar lights. Along the wall was every hue of amber liquid in their inverted bottles; every vice that Hanzo had been ordered to avoid. 

"Then what'cha in for?" McCree's words said playfully toying at Hanzo's thoughts.  
"I ain't imagine you'd be here if ya weren't drinkin." McCree said as he blew smoke out of his chrisp lips. 

"I --" Hanzo's paused as if needed a way to ploy the cowboy in.  
"You ever play poker?" It worked. McCree's eyes showed the only bit of hesitation Hanzo needed.

"You aint seem like the gambling type darlin-" 

"Well, I have a little wager for you. If I win we go to your place, If you win we go to mine." 

"I think I could get to your place without a card game in between." The words tumbled slowly and cautiously out of his mouth, each one wrapped in a heavy voice. They seemed to have echoed from the roof of his mouth, spreading their warmth everywhere. When he spoke his words were so clear, clearer than clear water. It was this speech, this heavy accent of his that immediately set him apart from everyone else, that made him seem as different as he was and that too in a good way. 

"You're just scared that I'll win aren't you?"

"Nah, sweetheart, I'll play ya game." 

**Bingo.**

They found a small table of people playing poker in the back corner of the musky bar and the game began and just as it had begun, it ended with McCree taking the pot. Large bets made by the two caused the other men to panic and eventually withdraw themselves from the highly addictive game. McCree smiled a wicked smile as he gather all the money he had won in what he believed the quickest and easiest win in the history of card games. Hanzo's face had a stern frown as he thought of taking the wild man back to his place. Although, the frown was just a cover. Hanzo would never let himself lose so easily. His complex mind had already planned out the events of the night and like it was all scheduled everything followed perfectly. McCree would never allow himself to go the Shimada estate if it upset Hanzo. 

"Well, darlin, let's just go back to my place. I ain't so into leaving here just yet." His words just reinstated Hanzo's schedule and Hanzo let himself grin, slightly. 

The bar was just a few blocks from where McCree had found shelter. The wannabe cowboy was too predictable. Hiding out in an old west town, that constantly had reenactments for the tourists that would come visit. It was genius. He fit in just fine without anyone ever questioning his sudden arrival. The cowboy was right at home.

The oldest residents of the abandoned house that McCree was staying at was the spiders. Many generations had laced the walls with cobwebs of intricate beauty, though now even they lay in dusty rags. It had been three decades since a footstep had echoed within those walls before McCree, since the dust had been disturbed and the ghosts awoken. They walked into a small room. The only furniture was a sleek brown framed bed with a gentle white sheet covering the dusty mattress and an antique pedestal table carved of local oak with a bottle of finest malt whiskey and an up-turned glass upon it . The room was dimly lit. A small lantern sat on the table next to the dusty glass. Hanzo's face showed the least bit of surprise at the cowboys living quarters. He turned with haste to the man. Suddenly, McCree maniacal grin was gone replaced with the look of utter adornment. One touch and it was over, it was always that way with McCree. He felt electricity in the man's skin. From there on in it was all passion, intense, intoxicating. It was their release, their escape, their drug... not that he was easy, he knew well enough to avoid letting anyone lay their hands on him. Yet with chemistry, with real love, too many of his switches were flicked for a reverse gear to be possible. If he was smitten all he could do was go along for the ride and pray his instincts were right. The rest of the night the two men observed all the details of each other's bodies, memorizing every crevice and angle vigorously.

 

Slowly and reluctantly, McCree uncovers his face, blinking, closing his eyes, and blinking again. Streaks of sunlight penetrate the window and blind him as he sits up, drags his feet off the bed, and rubs his knuckles on to his sleepy eyes. He stretches his arms above his head and yawns as he watches his legs dangle above the cold bare floor. His metallic hand strokes his wavy chestnut hair. A smile intoxicates his bloodstream like a rapidly spreading poison. His eyes, still waking up, made out the details of his room. Black and blue clothing laid strown about the over turned pedestal. McCree's pistol rested near the messily thrown clothes. His boxers sat on the end of the bed as if to remind him of the events that had occurred. He looks at the blank space in the bed where Hanzo had claimed. 

A sudden slam caught McCree's attention and forced him to fly to the single pane window. A car sat with its motor on; gentle clouds rising from a pipe attached to the bottom of the vehicle as McCree's clothes slammed the trunk of the car closed. His clothes? Hanzo!

 **_"SHIT~"_**

McCree grabbed his boxers and ran through the hall hastily trying to pull them up. As he opened the creaking door tires screeched away from him. He could hear Hanzo's laughter rise from the vehicle as it sped away. A golden scarf flew from its window and glided to McCree as if even his clothes were mocking the naked man. He leaned on the door of the aching house. The stoic man got him. 

Back in his room he noticed Hanzo had left him the 'decency' of leaving the naked cowboy his traditional attire and after multiple tries he was able to wear the clothing. McCree thought of the first time he had met Hanzo. How he had relentlessly flirted and seduced Hanzo only to runaway in the early hours leaving behind a note saying 'Catch me if ya can.' Hanzo did indeed catch him and boy was this game of cat and mouse promising. Each burning each other after every passionate night. Every time it stung their hearts but every time it made the game all the more fun. New tricks every time, each trying to stop the other from running but sometimes even letting them. Two childish souls playing with each other's heart like they were nothing more than toys. The pursuit of their love never ending. Only fools would play this game.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for Reading.


End file.
